


Friend like Me

by obiwankenboneme



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Disney, Alternate Universe - Genie/Djinn, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 05:06:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7030174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obiwankenboneme/pseuds/obiwankenboneme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader is a genie that has been stuck inside the magic lamp for centuries, and when one Obi-Wan Kenobi sets them free, they're worried he'll be like all the Masters before. Obi-Wan isn't sure what to do with a /genie/, but he supposes they'll figure it out along the way. As long as no one finds out that the reader is a genie and his boss doesn't kill him for snooping in the back room.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friend like Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is essentially a Modern Aladdin style AU, with my own little twists. Listen to Friend Like Me by Ne-Yo (I've been doing that and it is /super/ good) to get the basic feeling of what's to come. This will (as always) turn into a multi-part fic, just because I love doing that. Anyway, enjoy cubs!

Obi-Wan sighs, head falling back as he stares up at the ceiling of the old swap shop he works in. Tapping his foot against the wood floor, he tilts his chair back, balancing a pencil on his nose. He’s really getting it down when the store’s owner walks by and smacks him upside the head. Cursing, the pencil falls to the floor, clattering once before rolling under the front desk.

“Focus, Kenobi. I’m not paying you to dawdle and stare into space. If you’re so bored, get to sweeping and cleaning up the inventory,” Qui-Gon snaps, looking through some papers in his hands.

Grumbling under his breath, Obi-Wan nods and stands up, stretching out his lanky body. Pulling a hair band from his wrist, he ties back his rather long hair, not wanting it in his face. Once he’s got the broom and dustpan, he notices that Qui-Gon is heading towards the door and picks up his pace to follow him.

“Where are you going, Mr. Jinn? It’s not closing time.”

Qui-Gon pauses, turning around and closing the folio full of paperwork he’s holding. “I’ve got some business to handle with some people out of town. There’s new items to swap and bring back, I’ve got to talk with the building inspector so we can keep this place up, and the city council wants to see me. You’re in charge of the shop while I’m gone. Do _not_ , under any circumstances, play with something you haven’t seen or that is in the back room. Just clean up in here and enjoy your time. You’re still getting paid, so don’t worry about anything.”

He ruffles Obi’s red hair, making the younger man groan. Stepping away from his boss, Obi-Wan rolls his eyes and fixes his hair, a pout on his face. “Alright, fine. Just don’t be gone ‘til after closing. I’ve never closed up shop before on my own, and I’d rather not start today.”

Qui-Gon nods and says he won’t be that late, bidding a farewell as he leaves the shop. Obi-Wan watches him turn the corner before exhaling and facing the shop. It’s a little spooky when it’s empty, but it isn’t like he hasn’t been here alone before. It’s only him and Mr. Jinn working the place, and there’s not many people who stop in. Occasionally, Anakin Skywalker and his mother, Shmi, would come through, but that’s only to drop off food and for Shmi to flirt with Mr. Jinn. Rolling his eyes, Obi-Wan starts sweeping the floor, whistling under his breath.

If he’s going to be stuck here, he’s going to get some decent work done. There’s no reason to just sit around and do nothing.

* * *

It’s been almost three hours, and everything in the front show room of the shop is spotless. Obi-Wan swept, dusted, polished and even mopped the store until it reflected his own face. Smiling down at himself in the front desk, he winks.

_That’ll show Mr. Jinn that I’m a worthwhile employee. Maybe I’ll even get a little raise. It would help me a lot right now. I’m going to get kicked out of my apartment soon if I don’t come up with some money._

Obi-Wan is about to sit back down at his chair when something in the back room makes a loud noise, crashing to the floor. Mr. Jinn never allowed him back there, but at this point, Obi isn’t about to let the opportunity pass him up. If Mr. Jinn comes back when he’s in there, he’ll say he heard something valuable fall, which wouldn’t be a lie. Pushing past the heavy drapes, Obi-Wan coughs, waving his hand in front of his eyes.

Dust motes swirl around his face as he steps into the dark room, reaching above his head blindly to find the chain to the ceiling light. The only other source of light is from a very small window way on the other side of the room above the work bench. Mr. Jinn usually comes back here with oddities and broken items, wanting to inspect them and fix what he could for a profit. Once the overhead light is on, Obi stares around at the mess on the floor.

More than one thing had fallen from the shelves, and Obi-Wan groans, knowing he’ll have to start cleaning now if he wants to get it done before closing. He’s about to start picking up when he pauses, thinking out loud.

“Wouldn’t it just be _great_ if Mr. Jinn could come back here and have no dust? Why, it might even help with some of his wheezing. It couldn’t hurt to say something fell and there was such a mess that I _had_ to clean everything, could it?” Obi-Wan whispers, a smile pulling on his lips. “’Course not.”

Running back into the other room, he makes sure the sign is turned to closed as he grabs the broom and dustpan, heading back into the mysterious workshop. Hours later, the place is just as spotless as the front showroom, if not more so, and Obi swipes a finger over a shelf, pulling it back to see not a speck of dust is on his skin.

“Good job, Kenobi. Mr. Jinn will be very impressed with what you’ve done.”

He bows low to no one in particular, picking up everything he used to clean and starting towards the drapes. He’s made it almost all the way out of the room when there’s a crash, and he turns to see a weird looking item on the floor. Setting down the cleaning items, Obi walks back over and picks it up, inspecting the oddly shaped item. He’s never seen something like this, at least, not in real life.

A nagging feeling starts in the back of his head, and he smiles. Twisting it around in his grip, Obi-Wan shakes his head. “Right, a genie in a lamp. I should have known.” Rolling his eyes, he goes to put it back on the shelf before stopping. There’s a giant smudge on the side of it, and he frowns. “I thought I cleaned that.”

He brings the lamp closer to his face, taking the edge of his shirt and rubbing at the smudge. It won’t come out, so he rubs a little harder, groaning when he _still_ can’t seem to get it out. Spitting on his hand, Obi-Wan smirks when the smudge finally starts to disappear, but promptly drops the lamp when it shakes in his hand. His eyes grow wide, and he curses himself for being so stupid. _Mr. Jinn **told** you not to mess with this stuff. _

“Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. Oh my god, Mr. Jinn is going to _kill_ me. What if there was a bomb or something in that? What if I just set it off? Shit!” He attempts to grab it, stopping when smoke starts to curls out of the spout of the lamp.

He rubs at his eyes, thinking he must be going crazy. There’s no way in _hell_ that there was anything inside that. When he opens them, there’s a full blown _person_ standing in front of him, dressed in all blue, eyes searching around the shop.

“Ha! I’m free! I’m free!” They pick up the lamp, sticking out their tongue at their reflection. “Told you I was going to get out. Nothing can contain the great genie, Y/N!”

Obi-Wan swallows thickly, reaching behind him to get the broom he left near the entryway to the room. He trips and crashes into one of the shelves, the items on it rattling, but not falling off. The person looks up, eyes wide as they stare at him.

Before he can react, they’re standing in front of him, taking his hand and shaking it rather aggressively. “You set me free. Thank you so much! I-“

They stop, eyes darting to their wrist. A look of horror passes over their features, both hands being pulled to their face as they look at their wrists. “NO! I’m _free_. This isn’t possible!” Yanking at the cuffs, they groan and shake their wrists, trying to get the gold pieces off.

Obi-Wan stares, shell shocked by what’s happening in front of him. “Wh-who are you?”

The person looks up at him, eyes filled with sadness. Exhaling loudly, they place their hands on their hips, shaking their head. “I’m Y/N, genie of that lamp you just released me from. I am yours until you’ve made three wishes.”

It sounds recited, like they’ve done this time and time again. Obi-Wan supposes it makes sense, so long as this person is _actually_ a genie and not some-some cleaning fumes induced hallucination.

“Th-three wi-wishes?”

“Yes, but only three. Of course, there are rules and regulations. I can’t bring people back from the dead, I can’t kill anyone, I can’t make someone fall in love with you, and you can’t wish for more wishes.”

Obi-Wan watches as they tick off each of these on their fingers, a look of pure anger on their face now. Whatever emotions they were feeling, they were pretty damn bad, given that they looked at him with venomous rage once they’d finished ticking them off. _Who knew a person could go through emotions so fast._

“I…I don’t…I don’t _want_ three wishes. I just want you to go back to wherever you’re from,” he snaps, finally gaining his bearings.

Grabbing at the lamp, he rubs at it again, grumbling that they need to go back; right now. A hand is placed against his skin, making his eyes raise to those of the genie in front of him. Now, they looked terrified, and he stops rubbing at the lamp, allowing them to take it from him. They hold it like it’s some cherished piece, which – he supposes – it is, given they came out of it.

“I understand, but until you make three wishes, I _can’t_. Honestly, I just wanted to be free of this damn thing. You spend centuries in there, cramped and lonely and pissed, you kind of get tired of popping out and having to grant someone their wishes,” they muse, turning the lamp over in their hands.

Taking a seat on the stool in front of Qui-Gon’s work space, they look sorrowfully at their wrists. “Every time it’s something selfish too. Every master will tell me they’re going to use one wish to set me free, and then they use them all up and I’m stuck back in the lamp. It’s not _fair._ I deserve to be free!”

They start to cry, and Obi-Wan stands there awkwardly, glancing into the front showroom. It’s getting late, which means Qui-Gon will be back soon, and Obi-Wan doesn’t want a conversation about _this_ today. Looking back at the genie – Y/N – Obi makes a snap decision.

“I’ll set you free. I promise, but right now, we need to get out of here. That lamp needs to go back to where it was, and you and I need to get out of the shop before my boss gets back.” He runs forward, carefully taking the lamp from Y/N’s hands and placing it back on the shelves. “Come on, we’re going to leave. We can get you some clothes and some food and talk about…about what to do.”

Y/N stares at this man, whom they still don’t know the name of, eyes wet from crying. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course I mean it. Obi-Wan Kenobi always keeps his word. Now hurry up, before Mr. Jinn gets back.”

 


End file.
